MARGARET  JUNKIN  PRESTON 


AN  EASTON  LASS  OF  LONG  AGO,  WHO  ACHIEVED 
DISTINCTION  IN  LITERATURE  AND  ART. 

A memoir  by  Ethan  Allen  Weaver,  read  at  the  meeting  of  the  Northampton 
County,  Pa.  Historical  and  Genealogical  Society,  held  in  the  First  Reform- 
ed Church,  Easton,  Penna. 

„ September  20,  1921 


The  present  year  marks  the  one  hun- 
dredth anniversary  of  the  birth  of  one 
whose  early  life  was  passed  in  Easton 
and  who,  through  her  writings  both  in 
prose  and  poetry,  attained  national  dis- 
tinction in  the  world  of  “belles  lettres,” 
winning  for  her  the  title  of  the  “Po 
etess-Laureate  of  the  South.” 

Margaret  Junkin  was  born  in  Milton, 
Pa.,  May  19,  1820,  the  eldest  child  of 
Rev.  George  Junkin  and  Julia  Rush  Mil- 
ler Junkin.  Her  parents  were  of  that 
stalwart,  Godly  and  herioc  race,  the 
Covenanters  of  Scotland.  She  used  to 
tell  her  chilldren  with  a mixture  of  pride 
and  amusement  of  one  of  her  Scotch  an- 
cestors walking  to  church  on  Sundays 
over  a mountain  ridge  covered  with 
whortleberries,  without  daring  to  pick 
one  ripe  berry  for  fear  of  the  Fourtn 
Commandment. 

Dr.  Junkin' s life  was  devoted  to  re- 
ligion and  education,  and  at  the  time  of 
his  marriage  he  was  a minister  of  the 
Presbyterian  church  at  Milton,  supply- 
ing a number  of  congregations  and  pre- 
paring young  men  for  the  ministry. 

At  the  age  of  ten  Margaret  moved 
to  Germantown  where  her  father  took 
charge  of  the  Manual  Labor  Academy 
of  Penna.  Here  her  life  was  brightened 
by  the  friendship  and  associations  with 
her  mother’s  Philadelphia  acquaintances 
and  with  those  connected  with  the  in- 
stitution as  teachers,  particullarly  Char- 
les F.  McCay  who  was  to  Margaret  an 
unselfish  elder  brother  and  who  later 
accompanied  Dr.  Junkin  to  Easton  as 
a member  of  the  first  faculty  of  Lafay- 
ette College.  He  was  ten  years  her  se 
nior  but  seems  to  have  found  nothing 
more  to  his  tastes  than  the  companion- 
ship of  the  two  little  girls,  Margaret  and 
her  sister  Eleanor,  (always  famuiarly 
known  in  the  home  and  by  intimate 


friends  as  Maggie  and  Ellie)  whose 
studies  he  fosterea  and  encouraged. 

After  two  years  at  Cermantown,  Dr. 
Junkin  accepted  +he  x Residency  of 
Lafayette  College  and  .\^srgaret  at  the 
age  of  twelve  saw  for  the  first  time  the 
beautiful  “Forks  of  the  Delaware5  vich 
in  its  scenery,  which  no  doubt  gave  ;n 
spiration  to  her  in  ::er  early  writings. 
Not  only  did  Dr.  Junkin  and  his  family 
move  to  Easton  but  practicaJlly  the  en- 
tire institution,  faculty  and  students. 
For  two  years  the  college  was  conducted 
on  a farm  south  of  the  Lehigh.  In  the 
meantime  a permanent  site  was  pur- 
chased north  of  the  town  and  a build- 
ing constructed,  the  present  South  Col- 
lege, the  basement  and  first  floor  of  the 
eastern  portion  being  specially  fitted  up 
for  the  occupancy  of  the  President,  to 
which  he,  Mrs.  Junkin  and  their  seven 
children  moved  in  the  spring  of  1834 
and  which  he  occupied  until  his  removal 
in  1841  to  accept  the  presidency  of 
Miami  University,  Oxford,  Ohio. 

Margaret’s  brother,  the  late  George 
Junkin,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia,  writes: 
“My  first  recollection  of  Maggie  is  at 
the  time  of  my  youngest  sister’s  birth 
(1835)  in  Easton,  when  she  had  the  care 
and  entertainment  of  the  little  brood, 
mothering  us  with  great  success,”  She 
shared  the  responsibilities  in  the  tare- 
taking  of  her  two  sisters  and  five 
brothers,  she  being  the  eldest,  so  that 
her  hours  for  study  were  mostly  by 
candle  light.  As  a result  her  eyesight 
began  to  fail  when  she  had  reached  the 
age  of  twenty-one  and  for  a time  she 
was  deprived  of  that  for  which  she  had 
shown  even  a greater  passion  than  that 
for  writing,  namely  of  painting,  and 
crayons  and  water  cotters  still  in  exis- 
tence testify  to  her  remarkable  skill 
in  that  direction.  So  peering  eagerly 


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into  the  mists  of  ninety  years,  we  catch 
a glimpse  of  this  ten  year  old  Margaret ; 
slight,  fair  with  abundant  auburn  curls 
and  blue  eyes ; quick  of  mind  and  move- 
ment; sensitive,  shy,  conscientious;  ex- 
ercising a commanding  influence  over 
the  youger  children,  in  spite  of  her  tiny 
stature;  tender  hearted;  always  busy; 
obedient  and  loyall  to  her  grave  father; 
passionately  devoter  to  her  beautiful 
mother;  a little  house-mother  aerself 
from  her  earliest  years;  yet  even  then 
tingling  with  poetry  and  romance,  and 
with  the  ambition  to  be  a scholar — 
such  is  the  dainty  figure  thrown  upon 
the  warmly  colored  backgound  of  a 
home  rich  in  mental  and  spiritual  cul- 
ture. In  regard  to  her  stature  in  after 
years  her  husband  would  playfully  tell 
her — towering  above  her — that  it  was 
the  weight  of  her  ^studies  in  early  life 
that  had  stunted  her  growth.  There 
was,  however,  another  tradition  in  the 
familv  as  V Wle  cause  of  Margaret’s 
small  size,  ftT  ''she  had  been  tossed  on 
the  horns  of  a cow  as  a Qittle  toddler, 
a year  or  two  old,  and  everybody  knows 
the  Scotch  superstition  which  attributes 
to  this  mishap  the  power  to  dwarf  a 
little  child’s  growth.  The  association 
with  culivated  and  refined  people  is 
taken  for  granted  in  a college  president’s 
family;  but  there  was  one  element  in 
her  Easton  training  which  perhaps  had 
a great  deal  to  do  with  forming  her  po- 
etic and  artistic  tastes.  This  was  the 
beautiful  and  highly  romantic  scenery 
of  Easton,  by  which  she  was  surround- 
ed from  childhood.  Those  who  recall 
in  earlier  days  the  wooded  hills,  the 
fertile  fields,  the  shining  waters  of  this 
locality,  can  readJy  picture  the  yoimg 
dreamer  and  artist  and  poetess  framed 
in  the  rosy  dawns  and  glowing  sunsets, 
the  white  wintry  beauty,  and  smiling 
summer  fairness  of  such  a landscape. 
Easton  was  at  this  time  famous  be- 
yond its  borders  for  its  mental  culture, 
two  of  its  residents  being  numbered 
among  the  “Female  Poets  of  America” 
— Mrs.  Jane  Lewars  Gray  and  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Swift. 

Margaret’s  education  was  received  al- 
most wholly'  from  her  parents  and  was 
widened  by  private  lessons  from  the  coi- 
Qege  professors  and  tutors.  It  was 
about  this  time,  1840,  that  she  and  her 
sister  Eleanor  became  members  of  the 
First  Presbyterian  church  of  Easton  and 
that  her  first  productions  in  verse  ap- 
peared in  the  columns  of  a local  news- 
paper though  it  is  known  that  she  wrote 
verses  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  “Child- 
hood,” “The  Forest  Grave,”  and  “Where 


Dwelleth  the  Scent  of  the  Rose”  were 
early  efforts  and  after  her  removal  to 
Oxford,  0.  she  wrote  “Lines  Written  on 
Reading  Letters  Bringing  Sad  New3 
From  Easton.” 

An  incident  illustrating  Margaret 
Junkin’s  poetical  talent  is  related  by  the 
late  Rev.  Thomas  C.  Porter,  D.  D.  who, 
as  a student  at  Lafayette  (1836-1810), 
like  many  others  was  on  close  friendly 
terms  with  Dr.  Junkin’s  family:  “Seat- 
ed one  evening  on  the  porch”  the  doctor 
wrote,  “our  talk  began  to  flow  in 
usual  channel.  After  awhile,  her  sister 
Eleanor,  whpsejiking  for  poetry  was 
not  so  inte^^.  put  in  a remonstrance 
with  a toujours  perdrix  and  said  in  a 
vein  of  raillery,  that  she  believed  it 
utterly  impossible  for  us  twain  to  be 
together  ten  minutes  without  discours- 
ing about  the  riders  of  Pegasus.  We 
repelled  the  accusation.  She  then  re- 
plied, ‘Whichever  of  you,  when  we  meet 
here  again,  is  the  first  to  introduce  into 
our  conversation  anything  of  the  kind, 
he  or  she  must  pay  a forfeit  and  that 
forfeit  shall  be  fifty  lines  of  verse  on 
some  very  hard  subject.’  We  agreed 
to  the  terms.  It  was  asked,  ‘What 
shall  the  subject  be’?  Many  topics  hav- 
ing been  named  and  rejected,  she 
chanced  to  (look  over  into  a neighbor- 
ing field  and  saw  there  a patch  of  cab- 
bage and  cried  in  a gay  tone.  ‘Now  I 
have  it — fifty  lines  on  a head  of  cab- 
bage! Let  that  be  the  penalty.’  Of 
course,  at  our  next  meeting  an  ambig- 
uous word  or  phrase  supplied  a suffi- 
cient pretext  for  my  condemnation. 
There  was  no  escape,  I had  to  do  it.” 
The  lines  have  oft  been  printed  and 
aside  from  their  merit  their  humor  af- 
fords amusement. 

It  was  the  30th  of  March,  1841,  when 
with  his  family,  Dr.  Junkin  departed 
from  Easton  for  his  future  field  of  labor 
in  the  Valley  of  Miami.  At  that  time 
there  was  no  railroad  connections  be- 
tween Easton  and  PhiladeQphia  and  a 
recent  storm  and  high  waters  had  made 
the  ordinary  connections  by  stage- 
coaches impracticable.  Both  the  Dela- 
ware and  the  Lehigh  were  swollen  be- 
yond their  banks  and  on  a Monday 
morning  a small  fleet  of  Durham  Boats 
was  about  to  depart  for  Philadelphia, 
one  of  which  had  been  comfortably  fit- 
ted up  for  the  accommodation  of  Dr. 
Junkin’s  family  and  perhaps  a few  others 
that  availed  themsdlves  of  that  novel 
mode  of  transportation.  The  boats 
were  to  depart  at  an  early  hour  in  order 
to  reach  the  city  with  daylight.  His 
farewell  discourse  had  been  delivered 


3 


the  preceding  Sabbath  to  tearful  crowds ; 
Dut  anxious  to  take  a last  look  at  the 
man  and  family  that  had  won  such  a 
deep  place  in  their  affections,  a large 
concourse  of  the  citizens,  maJle  and  fe- 
male, old  and  young,  thronged  the  north 
bank  of  the  Lehigh  where  the  boat  lay, 
to  greet  with  sorrowful  farewell  the 
man  whose  departure  from  their  midst 
was  felt  to  be  a public  loss.  The  morn- 
ing had  been  cloudy  and  threatened 
rain,  but  that  did  not  deter  the  people 
from  thronging  to  the  shore.  After  a 
few  words  of  farewell  addressed  by  a 
gentleman  present  to  Dr.  Junkin  and  his 
family  after  they  were  seated  in  the 
boat,  the  Doctor  responded  in  a short 
speech  marked  by  much  feeling  and  bade 
farewell.  The  boat  pushed  off  and  was 
soon  carried  by  the  rapid  current  out 
of  sight  whilst  the  silent,  and  in  not  a 
few  cases  the  sobbing  crowd,  waved 
adieu.  Just  then  the  sun  broke  brightly 
through  the  clouds  and  a pleasant  day 
was  vouchsafed  to  the  voyagers,  This 
demonstration  of  the  popular  feeding 
was  entirely  impromptu.  Everybody 
seemed  surprised  to  see  everybody  there 
and  none  were  more  taken  by  surprise 
than  the  travellers  themselves.  It  was 
a spontaneous  throb  of  the  popular 
heart  and  as  the  people  withdrew  to 
their  homes  in  silent  sadness,  all  seem- 
ed to  feel  that  they  had  Host  a friend. 

In  1844  when  Dr.  Junkin  returned  to 
Easton  to  again  assume  the  Presidency 
of  his  “Lovely  Lafayette”  he  occupied 
a residence  in  the  town  where  he  re- 
mained until  1848  when  he  accepted  the 
Presidency  of  Washington  College,  now 
Washington  and  Lee  University,  Lex- 
ington, Va. 

Upon  Margaret  Junkin’s  return  to 
Easton  she  wrote  “Love’s  Tribune  to  the 
Departed”  occasioned  by  the  deatii  on 
August  20,  1845  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Crane 
wife  of  Dr.  F.  L.  Crane  and  daughter 
of  the  late  Jesse  M.  Howell,  Esq.,  and 
“The  Fate  of  a Eaindrop,”  and  these 
she  followed  after  going  to  Lexington 
by  “Thoughts  suggested  by  Powers’ 
Proserpine”  a beautiful  work  of  art, 
then  in  possession  of  tne  date  Judge 
Henry  D.  Maxwell,  of  Easton,  “The  Old 
Dominion,”  “The  Solaced  Grief,”  “Gal- 
ileo Before  the  Inquisition”  and  “The 
Polish  Boy.” 

In  a letter  to  her  childhood  friend 
Prof.  McCay,  dated  November  14,  1845 
she  wrote:  “Just  now  we,  that  is  the 
ladies  of  Easton,  are  very  busily  en- 
gaged in  preparing  for  a Bazaar,  after 
the  model  of  the  recent  one  hefld  by  the 


Philadelphia  ladies.  Its  object  is  to 
liquidate  a debt  which  remains  upon  the 
college,  and  if  its  results  are  at  all  com- 
mensurate with  the  zeal  and  energy  dis- 
played by  our  lladies,  we  will  realize 
something  handsome.  It  is  to  be  held 
during  Christmas  week,  and  the  affair 
is  to  be  terminated  by  a tea  party,  to 
which  all  the  town  people  are  to  be  in- 
vited. So  you  see  that  at  present  I 
have  employment  for  all  my  faculties.” 
This  bazaar  was  not  without  a sad  and 
far  reaching  effect  on  Margaret  Junkin’s 
life,  as  we  gather  from  mention  made 
by  a member  of  her  family.  Speaking 
of  the  breaking  down  of  Margaret’s  eye- 
sight, her  sister  says:  “She  did  her 
share  of  the  family  sewing — no  ma- 
chines in  those  days — read  everything 
she  coulld  lay  her  hands  on,  studied, 
practised  music  (she  never  became  a 
good  musician;)  did  a good  deal  of  pen- 
cil-drawing and  water-color  painting — 
rising  often  at  five  o’clock,  and  study- 
ing until  after  midnight.  All  this  laid 
the  foundation  for  that  suffering  with 
her  eyes  which  handicapped  the  later 
years  of  her  life.  When  she  was  about 
twenty-five  she  had  a severe  attack  of 
rheumatic  fever,  which  continued  for 
some  months.  Before  she  was  suffi- 
ciently recovered  from  this,  she 
became  interested  in  a Bazaar  which 
was  held  in  Easton  for  Lafayette  Col- 
lege, and  did  for  it  some  fine  painting, 
which  caused  the  first  absolute  break- 
down with  her  eyes,  and  from  which 
they  never  really  recovered.”  A produc- 
tion of  hers  was  a copy  in  sepia  of  the 
pathetic  head  of  Beatrice  Cenci  which 
now  hangs  on  her  son’s  wall  in  Balti- 
more. 

The  second  farewell  to  Easton  sharp- 
ly divides  Margaret  Junkin’s  life  for 
henceforth  her  lot  is  cast  with  the 
Southern  people  who  eagerly  claim  her 
as  their  poetess  and  boast  of  her  work 
as  the  product  of  Southern  talent. 

The  life  of  Margaret  Junkin  at  Lex- 
ington differed  from  that  which  she  ex- 
perienced as  a young  girl  at  German- 
town, Easton,  and  Oxford.  She  had 
reached  the  age  of  twenty-eight  and  the 
old  town  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  with 
its  famous  educational  institutions  and 
the  social  atmosphere  of  the  place, 
which,  aside  from  the  local  culture 
brought  many  interesting  personages  as 
visitors,  not  to  speak  of  the  quaint  life 
among  the  slaves,  appealed  to  her.  She 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  these  environ- 
ments to  the  fullest  extent  and  her  at- 
tainments,literary  and  social,  were  fully- 
recognized  at  home  and  abroad.  She 


I 


4 


was  enraptured  with  the  beauty  of  the 
surroundings  and  made  trips  on  horse- 
back to  points  of  interest  in  the  valley 
continuing  not  only  her  writings  but 
aflso  her  paintings  for  which  she  already 
displayed  ability  while  a girl  at  Easton. 
She  contributed  many  poems  and  short 
stories  to  religious  and  secular  journals 
and  to  the  magazines  of  that  period,  and 
her  only  novel,  “Silverwood,”  embalm- 
ing the  characters  of  her  mother,  sister, 
and  brother  was  published  anonymously 
about  this  time. 

The  death  of  a favorite  brother  (Jo- 
seph) in  1849  followed  by  that  of  her 
mother  in  1854  and  only  a few  months 
later  by  that  of  her  favorite  sister 
Eleanor,  brought  profound  grief  to  the 
Junkin  household.  The  sister  Eleanor 
survived  only  a year,  her  marriage  in 
1853  to  Major  Thomas  J.  Jackson,  a 
graduate  of  West  Point  and  a professor 
in  the  Virginia  Military  Institute,  the 
West  Point  of  the  South,  who  later 
achieved  fame  in  the  war  between  the 
States  and  gained  the  sobriquet  of 
“Stonewall”  Jackson.  After  the  death 
of  Mrs.  Jackson  her  husband  continued 
to  be  a member  of  Dr.  Junkin’s  house- 
hold for  four  years  and  the  affectionate 
regard  in  which  he  was  held  by  the 
members  of  the  Junkin  family  is  shown 
in  a number  of  Margaret's  letters  m 
which  General  Jackson’s  character  and 
personality  are  more  vividly  shown 
than  in  any  published  work  concern- 
ing him. 

Julia,  Margaret’s  surviving  sister,  in 
1856  married  Junius  M.  Fishburn,  Pro 
fessor.  of  Latin  in  Washington  College, 
and  after  the  death  of  her  husband  in 
1858  and  only  child  in  1859  moved  to 
Philadelphia  residing  with  her  brother 
George.  Here  for  many  years  she  was 
Treasurer  of  the  Women’s  Foreign  Mis- 
sionary Society  of  the  Presbyterian 
church,  but  the  last  seven  years  of  her 
life  she  was  an  invalid  in  the  Presby- 
terian Hospital  where  she  died  Septem 
ber  2,  1915. 

Margaret  Junkin  had  now  passed  the 
days  of  her  youth  without  making  any 
plans  for  matrimony,  it  goes  without 
saying  that  lovers  had  not  been  want- 
ing to  one  so  gifted  and  attractive; 
she,  in  later  years,  admitted  that  an 
unfortunate  episode  in  very  early  life 
had  closed  her  heart  during  all  those 
years  of  young  womanhood  to  any 
thought  of  love  or  marriage.  Margaret 
had  more  than  once  declared  that  if 
she  ever  married  a widower  and  espec- 
ially a widower  with  children,  that  she 
might  be  put  in  a straight- jacket,  for 


she  would  never  do  such  a thing  while 
she  kept  her  mind.  She  might  have 
said  while  she  kept  her  heart,  for  when 
the  time  came  for  her  to  love  a man 
she  was  to  do  joyfully  that  very  thing. 
On  August  3,  1857  she  married  Major 
John  T.  L.  Preston,  Professor  of  Latin 
in  the  Virginia  Military  Institute,  a 
widower  with  seven  children — the  old- 
est twenty-two  and  the  youngest  five. 
Major  Preston  was  a typical  Virginian; 
was  educated  at  Washington  College, 
University  of  Virginia  and  at  Yale,  the 
best  education  his  country  afforded  in 
his  day,  and  his  natural  gifts  were  of 
no  mean  order.  To  this  family  abe 
proved  to  be  an  affectionate  and  loving 
wife  and  mother  and  they  in  turn  re- 
ciprocated this  feeling  of  affection.  In 
addition  to  the  children  of  Major  Pres- 
ton in  his  first  marriage  two  sons  were 
bom  to  Major  and  Margaret  Junkin 
Preston — George  Junkin  Preston,  M I)., 
for  many  years  a successful  specialist 
in  nervous  diseases,  who  died  at  his 
home  in  Baltimore  twelve  years  ago, 
and  Herbert  Preston,  now  General  So 
licitor  for  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Rail- 
road Company.  The  former  is  survived 
by  a son  Lieut.  George  H.  Preston  of 
the  Medical  Corps,  United  States  Army, 
and  a daughter,  Margaret,  living  in 
Baltimore,  and  the  latter  by  a son  and 
daughter  who  are  minors. 

For  the  first  four  years  of  married 
life,  the  poet  was  lost  in  the  wife,  the 
mother,  and  the  busy  house-mistress. 
Mrs.  Preston  was  a notable  housekeeper. 
First  of  all  she  recreated  her  home.  The 
place,  when  she  came  in  it,  was  delight- 
ful as  to  spacious  grounds,  fine  shade 
trees,  attractive  orchard,  garden  and 
meadow.  Mrs.  Preston  altered  and  add 
ed  to  the  house,  made  and  kept  it  beauti- 
ful, tasteful,  comfortable  and  even 
elegant.  Members  of  her  family  used 
to  say  that  with  an  inexpensive  engrav- 
ing, an  ornament  or  two,  a hammer 
and  a box  of  tacks,  she  could  furnish  a 
room  artistically.  She  knew  where  to 
put  things  with  reference  to  one  an 
other,  and  how  to  give  to  the  whole  an 
indescribable  air  of  fitness,  that  no  ex- 
penditure of  money  could  reproduce  in 
those  who  lacked  her  gift.  Nor  did  she 
neglect  the  humbler  offices  of  a house- 
wife. In  fact  the  only  vanity  ever 
seen  in  her  was  in  connection  with  her 
mince  pies,  jellies,  and  crullers.  She 
seasoned  the  winter  supply  of  sausage 
with  her  own  hand,  flavored  the  autumn 
apple  butter,  and  the  most  flattering 
guest  that  ever  called  at  her  door 
could  not  entice  her  from  the  preserv- 


l 


5 


ing  kettle  till  the  fruit  was  ready  to 
be  put  into  the  jars.  For  several  years 
after  her  marriage,  indeed  until  the 
end  of  the  war,  Mrs.  Preston  consider- 
ed it  her  duty — she  sadly  owned  her 
mistake,  afterwards — to  do  an  immense 
amount  of  sewing,  and  her  skill  as  a 
needlewoman  was  as  great  as  if  she 
had  never  written  a sonnet. 

The  war  clouds  were  lowering  for  a 
bitter  conflict  between  the  north  ana 
south  which  was  to  'last  for  four  years 
and  the  Junkin  family  became  divided. 
The  father,  Rev.  Dr.  Junkin,  a pro- 
nounced abolitionist  and  opposed  to 
secession  resigned  the  Presidency  of 
Washington  College  and  with  his  widow- 
ed daughter  departed  for  Philade’phia 
where  both  of  them  resided  until  the 
end  of  their  lives.  His  son  William 
espoused  the  southern  cause  and  became 
a Captain  of  Infantry  and  John  M. 
served  as  a surgeon  in  the  Federal 
Army. 

The  son-in-law  Major  Thomas  J. 
Jackson  was  eaitiy  appointed  a Major 
General  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Vir- 
ginia and  as  a military  genius  was 
second  only  to  his  Commander-in-Chief, 
General  Robert  E.  Lee.  Major  Preston, 
though  past  the  military  age,  entered 
the  service  and  early  in  the  war  served 
on  the  staff  of  General  Jackson  with  the 
rank  of  Colonel.  A son  in  his  first  mar- 
riage was  killed  in  the  war,  another 
was  desperately  wounded,  losing  an 
arm,  while  a third  died  while  prepar- 
ing to  enter  the  service.  But  Margaret 
herself  never  foreswore  allegiance  to 
her  native  state,  even  in  the  dark  days 
of  the  war  when  prejudice  was  most 
bitter.  While  her  sympathy  was  with 
the  cause  of  her  adopted  people  and 
her  prayer  was  for  their  success  she 
believed  in  the  honesty  and  patriotism 
of  the  North  and  bravely  risked  the 
friendship  of  those  she  loved  and  upon 
whose  good  will  her  happiness  depended 
rather  than  acquiesce  in  the  universal 
denunciation  of  “the  enemy”  which  pre* 
vailed  both  North  and  South, 

There  are  many  letters  to  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton from  her  husband  and  “Stonewall” 
Jackson,  as  well  as  * journal  which  she 
kept  after  the  beginning  of  the  second 
year  of  the  war  that  are  of  great  inter- 
est to  the  general  reader  as  well  as  to 
members  of  the  family.  One  of  the 
letters  written  by  Major  Preston  to 
his  wife  gives  a graphic  account  of  the 
execution  of  John  Brown  of  which  he 
was  an  eye  witness.  There  are  fre- 
quent entries  in  her  journal  of  the 
scarcity  of  food  and  fabrics  and  of 


the  fabulous  prices  paid  for  each.  She 
records  making  calico  dresses  for  her 
baby  boy  out  of  the  lining  of  an  old 
dressing  gown  and  for  her  son,  clothes 
concocted  from  old  castaways.  Later  she 
writes  “I  made  my  George  a jacket 
out  of  a worn  out  old  gingham  apron 
and  pants  for  another  out  of  an  old 
coat  by  piecing  the  sleeves  together,” 
and,  “made  two  petticoats  for  Eliza- 
beth (her  stepdaughter)  and  self  out 
of  a window  curtain.  Necessity  is  the 
the  mother  of  invention.”  “Cut  a 
pair  of  drawers  for  Mr.  Preston  out  of 
a sheet,  not  because  I could  well  spare 
the  sheet  but  because  I had  nothing 
else.” 

Much  active  campaigning  took  place 
in  the  Shenandoah  Valley  and  at  Lex- 
ington cannonading  was  distinctly 
heard  during  the  engagements  in  the 
vicinity.  The  marching  of  the  contend- 
ing armies  through  Lexington,  of  ref- 
ugees seeking  safety,  the  burning  of 
the  buildings  of  the  Virginia  Military 
Institute,  the  denuding  of  Washington 
College  and  the  devastation  wrought 
by  the  invading  army,  are  feelingly 
referred  to.  The  news  of  the  killing 
or  wounding  of  kinsmen  and  neigh- 
bors, the  bringing  home  of  the  wound- 
ed, and  of  the  slain  in  battle  for  bur- 
ial, are  referred  to  without  any  feel- 
ing or  hatred  for  those  who  were  in- 
strumental in  bringing  this  about. 

Immediately  following  the  secession 
of  hostilities  began  the  rehabilitation 
of  Virginia  Military  Institute  and 
Washington  College  and  the  enroll- 
ment of  students  in  both  institutions 
was  greater  than  ever  before,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  a larger  staff  of 
professors  came  to  these  institutions 
and  social  activities  were  renewed  on 
a larger  scale.  Among  those  who  were 
thus  brought  to  Lexington  was  Gen- 
eral Robert  E.  Lee  who  had  accepted 
the  presidency  of  Washington  College 
and  a close  intimacy  sprang  up  be- 
eween  the  Lees  and  Prestons. 

Following  the  close  of  the  Civil  War, 
Mrs.  Preston,  aside  from  her  manifold 
household  duties  which  covered  every 
phase  of  house  keeping  from  repair- 
ing, re-upholstering,  polishing  of  fur- 
niture, making  wine  and  ketchup,  to 
the  mending  and  making  of  clothing, 
devoted  much  time  to  reviewing  books 
for  various  publishers  and  in  compil- 
ing and  arranging  for  publication  her 
own  compositions  in  prose  and  verse, 
the  latter  resulting  in  the  early  pub- 


6 


lication  of  her  “Beechenbrook”  (1866) 
a book  of  poems  voicing  the  sorrow 
and  patriotism  of  the  Southern  people 
and  of  “Old  Songs  an<J  New”  (1870)  a 
collection  of  miscellaneous  poems,  the 
best  known  of  her  writings. 

These  were  followed  by  “Cartoons” 
(1875),  “Handful  of  Monographs” 
descriptive  of  her  trip  to  England  and 
the  Continent  (1886,)  “For  Love’s 
Sake”  (1886),  “Colonial  Ballads  and 
Sonnets”  (1887,)  “Chimes  for  Church 
Children”  (1889)  and  “Aunt  Dorothy” 
an  old  Virginia  plantation  story 
(1890).  In  addition  to  which  she  con- 
tributed to  the  Century  Magazine  in 
the  early  eighties  some  reminiscen- 
ces of  General  Robert  E.  Lee  and  per- 
sonal reminiscences  of  General  “Stone- 
wall” Jackson. 

Among  those  who  wrote  letters  com- 
plimenting Mrs.  Preston  upon  her 
writings  are  Paul  Hayne,  known  as  a 
writer  of  patriotic  and  nature  verses, 
Longfellow,  Holmes,  Whittier,  Jean 
Ingelow  and  John  Burroughs.  Mrs. 
Preston  was  fervently  pious  and  deep- 
ly interested  in  all  matters  pertaining 
to  the  Presbyterian  church,  especially 
to  foreign  missions  and  one  of  her 
poems  “A  Bird’s  Ministry”  was  inspir- 
ed by  the  receipt  of  letters  from  Rev. 
Isidor  Lowenthal,  a graduate  of  Lafay- 
ette College  during  her  father’s  second 
administration,  whose  life  was  spent 
as  a missionary  in  India. 

In  1882  Col.  Preston  resigned  his 
professorship  in  Virginia  Military  In- 
stitute. His  wife’s  infirmities,  fail- 
ing health,  failing  eyesight,  increasing 
deafness  made  his  constant  compan- 
ionship more  and  more  necessary  to 
her. 

Every  summer  from  1874  to  1883 
Col.  and  Mrs.  Preston  spent  several 
months  at  McDonogh  School  near  Bal- 
timore in  the  home  of  Col.  Allan  who 
married  the  only  daughter  left  to  the 
Preston  household.  This  stepdauglfter 
of  Mrs.  Preston’s  was  only  nine  years 
old  at  the  time  of  her  father’s  second 
marriage.  She  had  known  no  other 
mother  and  was  in  all  respects  as 
Mrs.  Preston’s  own  child. 

The  summer  of  1884,  Mrs.  Preston 
spent  abroad  with  her  husband,  her 
oldest  son,  her  sister  and  for  part  of 
the  time  her  brothers  (George  and  Wil- 
liam) and  their  families.  Except  for 
the  ill  health  and  feeble  eyesight 
which  she  had  long  borne,  not  a cloud 


shadowed  the  tour  from  beginning  to 
end,  not  a day  failed  to  bring  its  tri- 
bute of  interest  and  pleasure  and  for 
the  rest  of  her  life  Mrs.  Preston’s 
memories  of  that  summer  sweetened 
existence  for  her. 

The  two  years  following  the  death 
of  her  husband,  July  15,  1890  she  re- 
maimed in  Lexington  at  the  home  of  her 
step-daughter.  She  became  of  course 
the  center  of  this  household.  Each 
member  of  the  family  took  turns  in 
reading  aloud  to  her  through  the  long 
ear  trumpet  which  her  increasing 
deafness  made  necessary. 

In  the  last  weeks  of  1892  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton made  the  trip  to  Baltimore  where 
she  made  her  home  for  the  rest  of  her 
days,  with  her  oldest  son,  Dr.  George 
Junkin  Preston,  where  she  became  the 
center  of  this  Baltimore  home  as  she 
had  been  of  the  Lexington  one,  and 
every  member  of  the  family  brought 
to  her  invalid’s  chair  whatever  could 
interest  and  please  her.  She  would 
not  see  strangers  but  there  were 
enough  old  friends  and  kinsfolk  in  the 
city  to  give  her  many  sweet  hours  of 
sociability  and  her  second  son,  Her- 
bert, who  was  practicing  law  in  Bal- 
timore devoted  himself  to  her  in  daily 
ministry. 

One  of  the  sweetest  and  brightest 
blessings  of  her  life  God  had  kept  for 
these  declining  years.  Among  Mrs. 
Preston’s  letters  still  preserved  is  one 
dated  at  Lexington,  Va.,  June  1854  to 
her  dear  friend  Professor  Charles  F. 
McCay,  alluding  to  the  birth  of  a little 
daughter  whom  Mr.  McCay  had  named 
for  Mrs.  Preston’s  mother  “Julia 
Junkin.”  This  friendship  struck  root 
first  in  Germantown,  grew  apace 
while  the  Junkins  lived  in  Easton, 
tenderly  cherished  during  the  quarter 
of  a century  that  Mrs.  Preston  lived 
in  Virginia  while  Mr.  McCay  was  en- 
gaged in  educational  work  in  Georgia 
but  its  blossom  flowered  into  beauty 
during  those  years  of  decline  in  Bal- 
timore when  the  “Julia  Junkin”  of 
the  Lexington  letter  brought  the  fra- 
grance of  her  sweet  presence  into  the 
sad  old  life  and  became  the  daily  com- 
panion, amanuensis  and  comforter  of 
her  father’s  dearest  friend. 

On  Sunday  March  19,  1897  Mrs. 
Preston  exchanged  time  for  eternity, 
the  shadows  of  earth  for  the  dawn  of 
Heaven.  The  following  is  quoted  from 
“An  Appreciation”  of  Margaret  J. 


7 


Preston — a sketch  of  her  fifty  years 
of  literary  life  by  Professor  James 
A.  Harrison  of  the  University  of  Vir- 
ginia : 

“Mrs.  Preston  was  a true  poet, 
whose  spontaneous  gift  of  poesy 
grew  out  of  an  ardent  imaginative  and 
devotional  nature  cultivated  to  the 
highest  degree  by  reading  and  study. 
Her  masters  in  the  art  were  Religion 
and  Enthusiasm  for  the  Beautiful; 
then  Longfellow,  Tennyson.  Eliza- 
beth Barrett  and  Robert  Browning. 
From  all  these  sources  the  stream  of 
poesy  that  naturally  ran  through  her 
nature  was  enriched  and  spiritualized. 
To  a natural  gift  for  rhythm  and  ca- 
dence far  beyond  the  usual,  she  added 
an  exquisite  ear  for  spiritual  music, 
ever  on  the  alert  for  the  impalpable 
melodies  that  haunt  the  slopes  of  Par- 
nassus and  float  ethereally  about  its 
laureled  clefts,  her  glowing  Celtic 
nature  was  all  Southern  in  its  passion 
and  love  of  harmony;  and  though  all 
American  poets  must  stand  behind  the 
sovereign  Poe  in  his  supreme  distinc- 
tion, Mrs.  Preston  takes  her  place  be- 
side Lanier  and  Hayne  and  Timrod  in 
fertility,  wealth  of  fancy,  culture,  and 
rhythmical  melodiousness  of  expres- 
sion and  feeling. 

“In  memory  of  her  delicate  yet  vig- 
orous work,  in  recognition  of  her  var- 
ied and  delightful  gift,  some  Old  Mor- 
tality might  well  select  three  of  the 
loveliest  words  in  our  language  and 
inscribe  them  on  tablets  of  Parian: 
Woman,  Poet,  Saint.” 

When  a friend  said  to  Margaret  Jun- 
kin  Preston  some  years  before  her 
death,  that  he  was  keeping  her  letters 
for  the  life  of  her  that  would  one  day 
be  written,  she  treated  the  matter  as 
a fantastic  joke.  So  little  claim  did 
she  consider  her  literary  work  to  have 
given  her  on  fame’s  bead-roll,  that 
her  executors  did  not  find  a scrap  of 
autobiography  among  her  papers.  It 
was  perhaps  the  acceptance  of  her  own 
estimate  of  herself  in  this  connection 
that  kept  her  family  from  offering  to 
the  public  any  memorial  of  her  life  at 
the  time  of  her  passing  into  the  great 
beyond,  but  her  step-daughter,  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Randolph  Preston  Allan,  took 
upon  herself  the  labor  of  love  in  com- 
piling and  publishing  in  a volume  re- 
plete with  interest  “The  Life  and  Let- 
ters of  Margaret  Junkin  Preston,”  and 
It  is  from  this  that  the  writer  of  this 
paper  has,  with  the  permission  of  Mrs. 


Allan,  extracted  freely  most  of  the  in- 
formation contained  herein.  None  can 
read  the  volume  without  a feeling  of 
just  pride  in  the  Easton  Lass  of 
eighty  jtears  ago,  whose  writings, 
which  brought  her  into  national  prom- 
inence, began  with  her  residence  in  the 
old  college  building  on  the  hilltop  by 
the  Bushkill  in  the  Forks  of  the  Dela- 
ware. 

ETHAN  ALLEN  WEAVER. 

Germantown,  Pa. 

November,  1920. 


r 


